


Grieving Sucks

by literally_no_idea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcoholic Tony Stark, Canonical Character Death, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Character Death, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Character Death, Relapse, Relapsing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 01:33:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18539581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literally_no_idea/pseuds/literally_no_idea
Summary: I can't think of a good summary. Sorry. Basically what it says on the tin though.





	Grieving Sucks

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, death anniversaries suck and 13 years later I still haven't really figured out how to cope without just suppressing my emotions so. Yeah. I'm projecting.
> 
> This is... I don't know, call it post-Avengers (2012)? It's pre-Civil War, let's put it that way. Yeah. I don't know.

Rhodey bursts into the workshop and finds Tony curled up on the floor in the back corner, between the couch and the wall, precision knife in hand. He runs over, grabbing the knife from Tony and tossing it aside, kneeling in front of Tony and grabbing his arms, checking for cuts, for blood. He doesn’t find any, thank god, but he does find that Tony’s breath absolutely reeks of alcohol. Tony had given up drinking a few years ago.

 

“Tony, hey, talk to me, Tones,” Rhodey says, hands cupping Tony’s face as the other man blinks, looking up at Rhodey as if he’s just realized he’s there.

 

“Rhodey, hey,” he says, “how are you? Did you need me to do some repairs or upgrades to your armor?”

 

Rhodey shakes his head. “No, that’s not why I’m here, and you know it. God, I can’t believe no one else thought to check on you today.”

 

Tony laughs, tears welling up but not quite falling yet. “Come on. When have they ever cared about that? About me? Pepper cares, but she worries too much. She gets scared, doesn’t want to see me like this.”

 

“And you think I’m not worried? That I like seeing you like this?”

 

“I know you hate seeing this, but you haven’t left. Won’t leave. You promised.” Tony’s voice is barely above a whisper on the last sentence, and Rhodey’s expression softens.

 

“Damn right I’m not leaving. I keep my promises. Now come on, up.” Rhodey stands, holding his hands out for Tony to take. Tony does, and Rhodey pulls him to his feet, putting Tony’s arm over his shoulders. “Let’s get you some food and water, to start. Then do you want to get some flowers and go down there?”

 

Tony shrugs. “I don’t know.”

 

“Okay. Well, food first. Then we can talk about it.”

 

They make it to the communal floor, and Rhodey sets Tony down in a chair at the kitchen table and puts a large plastic cup of water in front of him while he makes cinnamon rolls, because he knows that Tony’s always loved his cinnamon rolls.

 

Rhodey’s just put the rolls in the oven when Steve, Natasha, and Clint come wandering into the room, all tired and sweaty from what was probably a group training session. All three of them seem confused by Rhodey’s presence. While Tony had made a floor for Rhodey too, Rhodey had chosen to stay on the Air Force base instead, using his floor when he comes by to visit.

 

“Colonel Rhodes, I didn’t know you were coming over today,” Steve says, and Rhodey stares at him, tries to keep the hatred off of his face. He’s pretty sure he fails.

 

“Apparently there’s a lot of things you didn’t know about today.” Rhodey sets the timer for the rolls, then leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

 

Clint frowns. “Am I missing something? I think I’m missing something.”

 

“Is Tony drunk?” Natasha asks, and Rhodey glares at her next.

 

“Yes, and if any of you would bother using more than two of your brain cells at once, you might figure out the answer to all of your questions.”

 

Tony laughs, staring at the table in front of him. “Give it up, Rhodey, they’re not gonna know.”

 

“Know what?” Steve asks.

 

Rhodey makes sure to make eye contact before he answers. “Today is December 16th. Think about that for a second.”

 

Steve goes pale. “Oh.”

 

Rhodey continues glaring at him. “Yeah, ‘oh.’ Now do you want to get the fuck out of here, or am I going to need to  _ make _ you get out?”

 

“Uh, we’ll leave. Yeah. Sorry.” Steve turns to Tony. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

 

“Don’t.” Tony shakes his head. “Just don’t.”

 

Steve leads Natasha and Clint back out of the room, and they’ve been gone for no more than two minutes when Tony starts crying, broken laughter in between sobs. “Of course they didn’t remember. Why would they? I just remember their birthdays, and negative anniversaries, fighting styles, preferences, needs, and wants. Why would today matter to them? Why would they give a shit about my parents dying. About me losing my mom. Who gives a shit.”

 

Rhodey sighs, pulling a chair over to sit beside Tony. “I care. And so does Pepper, but she’s not prepared to see you like this. She loves you so much that she hates seeing you in pain. Lucky for you, I love you just as much, but I’ve also been doing this for decades, so I’m used to this.”

 

Tony laughs. “Yeah, that’s true. Thanks, Rhodey.”

 

“Any time. So, do you want to go down there today?” Rhodey stands when the timer beeps, pulling the cinnamon rolls out of the oven.

 

“Yeah. We’ll get sunflowers?”

 

Rhodey nods. “Definitely. But first, eat some cinnamon rolls with me. I’ll even let you have the gooey one in the middle.”

 

“You’re the best.”

 

“Damn right.”


End file.
